


All American

by NiennaNir



Series: Coulson Lives, but the Avengers might be the death of him. [34]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AAGPBL, Baseball, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9203825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiennaNir/pseuds/NiennaNir
Summary: Bucky Barnes is working his way back toward being a real person. Fortunately he has a support system headed by his overly invested best friend. Unfortunately The Future seems to get off on continually throwing him for a loop.





	

“I don’t understand!” Bucky declared with a horrified look, his eyebrows crowding into the middle of his face as his forehead scrunched up painfully. Steve let out a sigh.

 

“I know,” Steve said sympathetically, reaching across the sofa to pat his shoulder. “It threw me too.”

 

“But,” Bucky waffled for a moment, looking helpless, his jaw moving but no words coming out.

 

“Is he having another… thing?” Tony asked. His tone was casual as he crossed the rec room but it didn’t escape Steve’s notice that he rounded the sofa farther than was strictly necessary.

 

“Acclamation takes time,” Steve replied in a tone that said he had repeated the phrase more than once and not just to his childhood friend.

 

“And apparently occasionally drywall,” Tony added, sliding in behind the bar to fix himself a drink, pointedly ignoring the disapproving look Steve was leveling at the back of his head.

 

“It was one time,” Steve huffed belligerently. “And I said I was sorry. I didn’t hit the wall on purpose.”

 

“Yes, the wall snuck up on you,” Tony snarked back, gently rolling the scotch in his tumbler as Steve gave him a withering look.

 

“Are we still ordering pizza tonight? Whoa.” Clint stopped dead, three steps from the bottom of the stairs, leaning back on his heels as if he were contemplating retreat.

 

“He’s fine,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

 

“I’m not fine!” Bucky protested, looking up at him with a betrayed expression as Clint gave a lazy shrug, ambling past them toward the bar. 

 

“Is it like the bananas one or the rap music one?” Clint asked curiously, settling onto one of the bar stools.

 

“Too early to tell,” Tony replied. “I think it’s like the Google Maps one but with less shouting.”

 

“This is not fine,” Bucky continued his rant, undeterred. “Do you have any idea how many games I listened to on Armed Forces Radio? There were some weeks before the Commandos when that was all that got me by!”

 

“Is this about baseball?” Tony asked, his brow knitting. “I thought we already did the baseball breakdown. The Dodgers are in California. Build a bridge, Barnes.”

 

“You know,” Clint said, twisting the cap off the beer Tony handed him, “the next time Coulson brings up potential training modules I’m going to suggest you learn how to ‘help’. Because you could definitely use that skill set.” Tony’s only reply was a dry, disinterested look.

 

“Just saying,” Clint added.

 

“How can there be no girls’ baseball?” Bucky demanded, his expression betrayed.

 

“Well there’s girls playing baseball,” Steve amended. “Just not in a professional league any more.”

 

“Girls pro baseball?” Clint asked with a frown. “Was that a thing?” Bucky let out a pitiful moan, flopping back against the sofa with his arm draped over his eyes dramatically.

 

“Yeah ‘cause you know all about being helpful, Barton,” Tony stated blandly.

 

“They only played until the fifties,” Steve explained, darting a look at Clint who was watching them with the same expression a parent would cast upon an overly theatrical toddler, the corner of his mouth twitching despite the stern set of his jaw.

 

“Yeah, there was that historical film a few years back,” Tony said absently, most of his attention on the bottle of wine he was opening. “Geena Davis. Jarvis, dig it up, we can watch it on movie night.” Clint nodded in vague agreement.

 

“I would totally watch Geena Davis read baseball stats for two hours, I’m in,” he replied, pitching the bottle cap into the bin on the far side of the bar as Bucky made a sound like his foot had been trodden on.

 

“It was a good movie,” Steve agreed grudgingly.

 

“I was going to see the Blue Sox play,” Bucky lamented, hunching forward to hang his head in what looked like despair. “Soon as I got back home, remember?”

 

“Bonnie Baker,” Steve nodded with a nostalgic hum as Bucky groaned painfully. He looked up to see both Tony and Clint staring back at him with assessing expressions. “She was the Catcher for South Bend. She was kind of a knockout.”

 

“Kind of?” Bucky gave him an offended look. “She was amazing. She stole ninety-two bases in ’44. Eighty-eight hits.” 

 

“Yeah Buck,” Steve sighed again, returning to patting his back. “I know.”

 

“He can’t remember where he was six months ago but he knows seventy-year old baseball stats,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

 

“To be fair,” Clint replied. “It’s hard to forget a woman who’s attractive  _ and _ can knock you out with a baseball bat.”

 

“It’s what I always look for in a woman,” Tony remarked, in grudging agreement.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Pepper declared, emerging from the kitchen with a bottled water and a coy smirk.

 

“If you want to wear one of those little uniforms later,” Tony suggested, using his hands to mark the barely there length of the skirt. “That’s a thing that can happen.” Pepper didn’t deign to reply, instead settling down on the coffee table across from Bucky.

 

“Drink,” she ordered, holding the water bottle out to him. Bucky took it, obediently chugging half of it down in a handful of gulps.

 

“How can there not be girls baseball?” he demanded, turning to Pepper as if she held all the answers. “I thought the twenty-first century was supposed to be better!”

 

“He’s got me there,” Clint admitted. “I’d rather watch girls in miniskirts cracking the hell out of a baseball than just about anything on tv now.”

 

“Except maybe Doctor Who,” Tony nodded. Clint gave a huff of agreement.

 

“Baseball isn’t as popular as it once was,” Pepper replied, patting Bucky’s hand reassuringly, leaning back to cross her long legs. “Football’s taken over the top spot, basketball, hockey, soccer; they’re all vying for fans and ticket prices are higher, the stadiums are bigger. All the attention is going to more intense, exciting sports.” Bucky drew in a shaky breath.

 

“They were really amazing, I always wanted to go to a game,” he confessed. “I was sort of hoping that by now we’d have a girls team in Brooklyn, you know? It stings a little.”

 

“Well, not in Brooklyn,” Pepper said with a  smile. “But there’s a women’s pro fast pitch league.”

 

“There is?” Tony asked.

 

“Stark Industries sponsors the Akron Racers,” Pepper replied, her tone droll before she turned back to Bucky. “We have a box. It’s all very posh now so it’s not like you remember either but you’re welcome to take advantage of it.”

 

“That’d be great,” Steve said, his face lighting up as he nudged Bucky’s shoulder “We always used to say we’d make it big and sit in the box seats with the swells.”

 

“Yeah we did,” Bucky replied, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.

 

“Come on Buck, what’d ya say?” Steve coaxed. Bucky seemed to waver a moment.

 

“I’d, yeah I’d like that,” he nodded hesitantly.

 

“Good. Jarvis, if you could?” Pepper asked, giving Bucky’s shoulder a squeeze before moving off toward the bar.

 

“I shall make all the necessary arrangements,” The AI answered.

 

“What?” Pepper asked, eyeing both Clint and Tony who were staring at her with dumbfounded expressions.

 

“Does SI really sponsor women’s pro softball?” Tony asked skeptically, his voice low.

 

“We do now,” Pepper answered, her tone dry. Clint ducked his head to hide his laugh.

 

“That was incredibly crafty of you,” Tony said, holding out a wine glass to her with sparkling eyes. “And I commend you on your powers of manipulation.”

 

“It’s been three months and none of you have managed to convince him to leave the tower,” Pepper replied, sparing a glance over her shoulder at Bucky and Steve who were animatedly discussing baseball. “I wasn’t about to let him lurk here forever like a prisoner because no one could come up with any useful ideas.”

 

“The best idea I came up with was to wait until Steve went out jogging and then tell Barnes he was missing,” Tony admitted.

 

“So like she said, we didn’t have any ideas,” Clint observed.

 

“You wanted to tranq him and drop him in Central Park,” Tony reminded.

 

“He’d have been out of the tower,” Clint pointed out. Pepper winced, slowly shaking her head.

 

“I managed to avert this crisis,” She said, eyeing them both. “You are going to get through dinner without giving the poor man another nervous breakdown.”

 

“He’s going to find out about pineapple pizza eventually,” Clint replied.

 

“It’s going to be better coming from someone he knows,” Tony added, nodding in agreement.

 

“We should just get it over with,” Clint insisted but Pepper had leveled a cold glare at him that could freeze alcohol in July on the equator.

 

“Traditional all the way, right Jarvis?” Tony asked finally, looking resigned.

 

“I pushed the envelope and ordered olives just for you, sir,” Jarvis replied, his tone amused. “I also have taken the liberty of informing catering in Akron to only serve hotdogs, popcorn, and peanuts.” Pepper covered her mouth with her hand but she couldn’t hide the sparkle of amusement in her eyes.

 

“Great,” Tony sighed, looking put upon. “At this rate we should have him functional again in time for the twenty-second century.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The All American Girls Professional Baseball League played from 1943 to 1954 and you can learn all about them here: [aagpbl.org](https://www.aagpbl.org)
> 
> If you've never seen [A League of Their Own](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0104694/) I highly recommend it. So does Tony.


End file.
